First Impressions
by WhyMustIWrite
Summary: A series of ficlets, focused on the Umino family. Ch 1: Kakashi and Iruka's first meeting. Ch 2: Iruka and his father are vexed by graduation requirements. Ch 3: The origin of Iruka's scar, with appearances by Obito, Fugaku, and the prior generation Ino-Shika-Cho. Ch 4: The aftermath of Iruka's scar. Ch 5: The Kyuubi attack. NEW: Ch 6 Sakumo's suicide
1. First Impressions

This one-shot is part of a larger project I'm tinkering around with, exploring Iruka's heritage. However, it stands alone just fine.

This story is compatible with the background presented in my other work ""Ready for War." It's also compatible with what little is mentioned of Iruka's history in "Not Over Til The Paperwork Is In." Please note the meaning of Iruka's parent's names:  
Kajiki - Swordfish  
Koeda - Foliage

* * *

The dark-haired kunoichi turned, having lost her husband in the few moments it took to retrieve Iruka's toy from the baby bag. "Kajiki?" She called out, her gaze sweeping the crowded market.

She finally spied her husband by the vegetable stand. His eyes were fixed toward the distance and he stood unnaturally still. Adjusting her hold on the infant, she approached. "What's the matter, hon'? You look like you've seen a ghost."

"Not a ghost." Wide, dark brown eyes met hers, and he offered her a wan smile, "A myth."

"What?" She wrinkled her nose at him before sweeping her eyes over the crowd again.

Kajiki pointed with the barest tilt of his chin.

"It's _him_," he whispered, "The Legendary White Fang of Konoha."

Koeda glanced to her right. "Oh, you mean Hatake Sakumo?" She chuckled. "Yes hon', he _does_ come to the market sometimes. See what you miss because you don't like to go shopping?"

Her jesting went unnoticed as he continued to stare. "I've heard so many stories about that man. But…I didn't believe he was real. I thought it was just campfire tales the veterans used to frighten rookies."

Mischief sparkled in the young kunoichi's eyes. "Well then, let's introduce you to the bogeyman. Come on!"

Kajiki resisted his wife's tugs on his arm. "No, dear. That's not necessary."

"Don't be ridiculous!" Koeda insisted. "Look- he has his son, Kakashi, with him. I was the messenger sent to tell him of his wife's safe delivery, three years ago. Now I get to show him _our_ little boy."

Kajiki sighed, as he often did when faced with his wife's flights of fancy. "There's no reason to bother him over it."

"What? You don't think our son is a big deal?" She asked dangerously.

"He is to us, obviously," Kajiki assured, mindful of her fierce maternal pride. "I just don't see how someone of his station could be interested in the affairs of the common shinobi."

"Oh, Kaji'- you're not in Mist anymore, remember?" his wife chided. "Sure he outranks us, but Sakumo's not a snob. Just you watch."

She moved to support Iruka with one arm, using her free arm to pull her reluctant husband ahead. They caught up to their target, the legend picking out loaves of freshly baked bread.

"Sakumo!" Koeda called warmly. "Good to see you back safe from your mission. And I see you've brought little Kakashi with you today." She winked at the silver-haired three-year-old. "My, you grow more handsome every day!"

Kakashi gripped his father's pant leg as he stared apprehensively at the woman. She'd called him handsome- a sure sign that he was in danger of having his cheeks pinched. Bad enough that the shopkeepers did it; now he had to fend off other shoppers.

Sakumo chuckled and grasped his boy's shoulder. "He's growing quickly, Koeda… far too quickly." The jounin's voice trailed off for a moment, then he noticed the little bundle that was certainly not an armful of groceries. "And who is this little one?"

Koeda slipped her free arm into her husband's and pulled him forward. "Sakumo, meet my husband, Kajiki, and our son Iruka. He's five months old now."

Kajiki, true to his upbringing in court etiquette, bowed deeply. "It is a privilege and honor to meet you, Lord Hatake."

"Ah- I've heard a lot about you, Umino," Sakumo responded, causing Kajiki to tense in unconscious preparation of fight-or-flight. However, the great White Fang returned the bow. "It's good to finally meet you as well. I understand that you've done our village and our Hokage a great service."

"It was only right. I am indebted to this great village and the most honorable Lord Hokage for granting me asylum," Kajiki responded gravely. "But my own service pales in comparison to yours. As far away as Water Country, tales of your bravery and skill strike fear into the hearts of those that would oppose this nation."

"Well…that's…good to know," Sakumo replied, shooting a look at Koeda that seemed to ask '_Is he always like this_?'

The awkward moment was interrupted when Iruka dropped the toy he'd been contentedly gumming and let out a wail as it slipped his grasp. Kakashi cringed at the ear-splitting sound, and dove to catch the rubber kunai before it hit the ground.

"Thank you, Kakashi." Koeda smiled and knelt down at level with the little boy. "You have excellent reflexes. I'm impressed."

The three-year-old did not reply, already retreating to his father's side, ever mindful of the danger of pinched cheeks. It never paid to let one's guard down.

Iruka continued to wail, and it was a rather annoying sound. Kakashi considered the toy in his hand and, after an encouraging nod from his father, held it out like a peace offering. "Here, take it."

"You need to put it in his hand, Kashi," Sakumo chuckled. "Iruka can't reach it if you're standing two feet away."

Kakashi reluctantly released his hold on his father's pant leg and approached the crying baby. The lady's arms were occupied with holding the squirming infant, so he felt safe enough to peer at the round little face before looking back up at the infant's mother.

"He's very loud," Kakashi noted seriously.

"Iruka's got strong lungs," Koeda agreed. "And a temper to boot."

Kakashi placed the toy in the baby's hand. Iruka immediately calmed down as he gummed on the toy kunai again. Curious brown eyes peered up at his new silver-haired companion.

The three-year-old was equally curious, quite unused to being around anyone younger than he. He tentatively reached out a hand and, since the mother didn't seem to mind, experimentally brushed his fingers against the baby's arm. "He's soft," Kakashi murmured.

The boy's eyes met the kunoichi's intently. "Loud and soft…I hope you're not trying to make him a ninja. It will never work."

"Kakashi!" Sakumo scolded sharply.

Koeda's eyes flashed with temper. Before she could retort, Kajiki chuckled and rested a hand on his outraged wife's shoulder. He acknowledged the boy's comment with a nod. "Ah, but Kakashi, he is only a baby. All babies are soft and loud, and generally unsuited to a ninja lifestyle. He will grow out of that. And if we train him diligently, I'm sure he'll become a fine ninja, don't you think?"

Kakashi stared skeptically at the baby. However, his father's earlier rebuke and this lady's warning glare convinced him to go along with the man's assessment. "I guess so. If you train him _really, really _hard."

"I'll be sure to do that," Kajiki replied seriously, though his mouth twitched in a hint of a smile.

"Come along, Kakashi."

The child pursed his lips unhappily. The tone of his father's voice warned him that they were going to have another talk on being polite when they got home. The adults said their goodbyes, then Kakashi turned to follow his father.

_Thunk_

A rubber kunai hit him on the back of the head. Kakashi spun around with a glare.

Koeda laughed outright. "That's my boy!" She cheered.

Kajiki shifted instinctively in front of the pair. In Mist he'd witnessed the punishment for lesser slights than this. "Forgive him, Lord Hatake! Iruka didn't know what he was doing."

Behind him, his wife started laughing even harder, "Of course he knew! Didn't you, Iruka? My clever little ninja!" The baby grinned toothlessly at the praise.

Sakumo smiled at Kajiki's scandalized expression and handed the toy to the boy's father. "There's nothing to forgive," he assured sincerely.

The jounin took his son's hand as they turned away again. Kakashi glanced back one last time, his free hand reaching up to rub the back of his head where the toy kunai had hit.

"So, Kakashi," his father intoned, "It seems that little Iruka didn't appreciate having his skill questioned. I hope you've learned your lesson."

The three-year-old carefully thought over his encounter before nodding. "Yes, father. I should never turn my back on someone after I criticize them, huh?"


	2. Second Chances

Another snippet from my project exploring Iruka's heritage. The middle section of the story takes place in the past.

This is being posted as thanks to **Umino-Jenai **for the heartening review last month. I did not anticipate that my refining efforts on this and other stories would be noticed, let alone acknowledged.

Name Meanings:

Kajiki - Swordfish  
Tara - Codfish  
Okoze - Stingray

* * *

Iruka growled in frustration, pushing his bangs away from his face and kicking at the slovenly form lying with limbs akimbo on the ground. An exercise in futility, for his foot passed right through the image.

His father crossed his arms as he observed from a few feet away. A wry smile appeared on his features. "Beating up an immaterial clone won't help, son. You'll just need to practice your technique."

The ten year old frowned distastefully at the inferior apparition- as though it were somehow _its_ fault that he failed to perform the simple clone jutsu. With a sigh, he turned around and readied his hands to form the needed signs.

Before going through with his technique, small brown eyes looked up questioningly at the elder nin. "Dad…what happens if I don't pass the graduation exam?"

Umino Kajiki went alarmingly pale at those words. For the first time in his life, Iruka thought that his father looked terrified.

* * *

Umino Tara lingered outside the academy grounds, digging her toe into the dirt. The fourteen-year-old waited for the graduation exam to end. After all, _someone _needed to be here to collect the body of her younger brother, Kajiki.

Tara frowned as she thought of her little sibling. That boy had always been the runt of the Umino family. He wasn't particularly athletic or coordinated, and just barely average in the shinobi arts of ninjutsu and genjutsu. Annoyingly bookish as well- Tara often caught him curled up under a tree with some tome when he was supposed to be training.

As the Mist Village Graduation Exam grew nearer, it was clear to the Umino family that Kajiki stood no chance of passing the test. And there was no such thing as a do-over when the test involved a fight to the death. Tara and her parents distanced themselves from the youngest Umino child, knowing that he'd be dead by the end of the school year.

The teen sighed and looked up to watch the grisly grey clouds float overhead. It was such a chore, being the one responsible to dispense with the body. But father was away at the Water Daimyo's court and mother had more pressing matters to attend to around the village. Even the eldest brother, Okoze, was busy on guard duty. So _she_ was stuck with the dirty work.

When the youngest Umino child staggered out of the Academy doorway- bloody, but very much alive- Tara was shocked. Kajiki's dark eyes were wide and unfocused as he lurched down the steps toward his older sibling.

"You actually _passed_?" she asked disbelievingly.

Her brother's shell-shocked features didn't alter as he nodded mutely.

"Oh." Tara floundered for words as she placed her hand on her hip. "Well congratulations, squirt. I suppose we'd better let mother know to set your place at the dinner table."

He didn't respond.

The girl felt a touch of pity for her baby brother. He seemed to be taking his first kill quite badly. "Oi, Kajiki, why don't you invite Takeshi to come over for dinner too? His parents are both away on missions, right? He's got no one else to celebrate his promotion to genin."

Instead of relaxing as she expected, Kajiki's body began to quake. He shut his eyes and shook his head vigorously.

She wrinkled her nose at his dramatic display. "What? You don't want your friend to come over?"

"He didn't pass." The words were whispered, pushed painfully past swollen, bleeding lips.

Tara hissed. "Well, _that's_ a surprise. Takeshi was supposedly the best warrior in your class. Who beat him?"

Her little brother whimpered pitifully, and she could see the tears threatening to push past his forcefully shut eyelids. He murmured something that sounded almost like "I did."

"What?" Tara demanded loudly, poking her sibling's bruised ribs. "What did you say?"

He swallowed, composing himself somewhat before repeating. "I did. I killed Takeshi."

"Well…damn…" The teen scratched at her head in confusion. How in the seven seas did her little runt of a brother manage to kill this year's star student? Especially considering that Takeshi was his closest friend. Those two boys were practically inseparable; it would have been hard for Kajiki, for _both _of them, to be pitted against one another on the final exam.

Her eyes widened in realization. "He _let_ you win."

The boy's reaction was all the confirmation she needed. A stricken sob escaped his throat, and Kajiki buckled against his sister's form.

"Hey, stop that! What? Would you prefer it if _you_ were the one who died?"

The miserable grief on his face told her that, perhaps, he did. She pursed her lips impatiently. "If mother catches you moping like this, you'll be in for it! You're the one who's alive at the end…so be happy about it you little twit!"

"But Takeshi was supposed to make it," Kajiki whimpered, not quite able to suppress another sob. "He could have made it… It's all my fault…"

"If Takeshi was foolish enough to throw the fight, then he didn't deserve to be a ninja," she declared unequivocally. "Better that he die now, instead of out on the field where he would screw up a mission. In the ninja world there are no second chances. Remember that, Kajiki."

* * *

"Dad…?"

At his son's worried tone, Kajiki blinked as though rousing from a dream. He wiped his brow and smiled at the boy, the corners of his dark eyes crinkling. "Iruka, I'm sure you'll pass if you do your best." His hand grasped the boy's shoulder. "And even if you don't…you'll get another chance."

Drawing a quiet breath, he repeated intently, "You'll get another chance."


	3. Cycles

My sincere thanks to those who have reviewed this and other of my older stories. I'm stunned that people are still putting this fic on alert, after nearly a year of silence on my part. I offer this chapter in appreciation for my readers, both new and old.

Warning: This chapter is rated T, due to abusive situations.

* * *

Kajiki walked apart from the other three as they entered the village, watching them talk and joke together. Inoichi, Shikaku, and Chouza accepted him well enough, but they were such close friends that any ninja would feel on the outside in their presence.

Just as he was taking a step, the former Mist ninja noticed the beetle in his path. He hastily diverted his boot before the sole could crush the insect. The others heard his slight stumble.

"You all right there?" Inoichi called back, slowing when he noticed how far ahead his group had gotten.

"Yes!" Kajiki assured the younger nin. With the very tip of his boot, he nudged the beetle towards the grass on the side of the path before catching up to the others.

Shikaku gave him a curious look, and Kajiki avoided his eyes by staring down at the ground. He hadn't meant for them to notice. It must look foolish, after all the human blood he'd spilt on the battlefield. Shinobi could rarely afford mercy, but he liked to offer it when he could, even if only to a beetle.

Chouza's large hand clasped his shoulder, drawing Kajiki's gaze back up. The Akimichi had a kind smile. "Don't be embarrassed. It's okay to respect the life of an insect. Just look at the Aburame clan! You would get along with them well."

"I've worked reconnaissance with Aburame Shibi," Kajiki admitted. "But he was very reserved, and sparse with his words. I cannot say that I know him any better after the mission than I did before."

"Yeah, Shibi's not much of a talker," Shikaku agreed, "But don't let that get to you."

"With the Aburame, the trick is just to initiate and include them in conversation," Inoichi added. "They appreciate the effort, and are mostly content to listen. If they feel they have something worth saying, they'll chime in."

Shikaku laughed sharply. "Inoichi, you're full of advice on how to approach people, yet you can't even bring yourself to talk to that girl you like!"

"I talk to her!" the blond protested over his friends' chortles. "You just don't appreciate the need for proper timing- Yoshino is the one chasing _you_!"

"Heh, like I would want such a bull-headed woman!" Shikaku grimaced. "Tell me, Chouza, how can I find a sweet, quiet one?"

"_Finding_ is the easy part," Chouza pointed out. "Kajiki is the only one of the lot of us who managed to get married, you should ask _his _advice,"

"Have you met my wife, Shikaku? Koeda isn't very quiet. But even a strong-minded woman can be sweet," Kajiki replied. "Maybe you should give this Yoshino a chance."

This set the other two on a bout of good natured teasing. Kajiki smiled at their camaraderie and obvious fondness for one another. War hadn't entirely dampened the spirit of the Konohans. "I'll leave you now, and return to my home. It was an honor to serve alongside you."

"Leaving already?" Chouza asked "Why don't you grab something to eat with us?"

"Thank you for offering," he said regretfully, "but I really should go home. My family is waiting, and it's been long since I've last had a furlough."

"How about a couple of drinks then? You wouldn't have to stay long."

Kajiki hesitated. He rarely drank, having all but given it up after his training with the monks. Still, it was rare that his comrades invited him out after a mission. "Sure. I can stay for one drink."

One drink became two, and then three, for Kajiki was loath to break away. Sharing drinks and trading stories with the Ino-Shika-Cho team, he could dare to imagine that he wasn't an outsider- something that few of the other shinobi allowed him to forget. But Kajiki also had a family, and his longing to see them won out over the proffered fourth glass of saké. He had just decided to take his leave, when a heavy hand came down on the bar next to him.

"There you are, Umino." Konoha's police captain glared reproachfully at the foreign-born shinobi. "If you can drag yourself away from the bar, I suggest you stop by the precinct and collect your son."

_The precinct!_ Kajiki froze at those words. "What happened to Iruka?"

"What happened to him? Nothing but poor upbringing, I suspect," Fugaku remarked coolly. "I caught him this morning slouching about the village- skipping classes. The little truant ran when confronted, so we're keeping him in custody until someone claims him."

"What about Koeda? Isn't she still in the village?" Kajiki asked.

"She was sent on a mission yesterday." Fugaku shot him a patronizing look. "Don't tell me you haven't bothered to check on your family. Bad enough that I have to keep your son in control, without having to keep track of your woman."

Inoichi frowned. "Since when do kids get locked up for cutting school?"

"He's in police custody. We haven't needed to throw him in a cell yet," the Uchiha corrected. "I couldn't leave him to roam the streets of Konoha if he refuses to stay where he belongs. The boy's a vagrant like his father, no doubt."

"My apologies for the trouble, Captain," Kajiki responded stiffly. "I will deal with my son."

"You do that. I don't know how it works in Mist, but here in Konoha, a man is expected to manage his own household, without police intervention."

At the precinct, Kajiki found Iruka under the care of a prepubescent Uchiha chunin. His son wore an unfamiliar set of orange goggles on his head, and seemed happy enough sitting on the tall bench and swinging his feet while prattling on to the Uchiha boy.

"Dad, you're back!" The seven-year-old caught sight of him and happily raced forward. He latched on to Kajiki's leg and beamed up at him. "Mom got sent on a mission yesterday. She said that she shouldn't be gone long, and that the landlady would check up on me tonight. I didn't know you were coming back so soon!"

"And you took advantage of our absence by skipping school?" his father asked coldly.

"Oh," Iruka blushed. "I… uh…"

"We'll settle this at home." He turned and bowed lightly to the Uchiha in the chunin vest, who couldn't have been older than twelve. "I trust we are free to go?"

"Sure," the youth replied with an affable nod. He ruffled Iruka's hair, and collected the goggles. "Bye, Iruka. I know school can get boring, but it's important, okay? I don't want to see you back in here during Academy hours."

"All right, Obito," Iruka grinned. "But maybe I could visit you after school sometimes?"

"You will never set one foot inside this precinct again," Kajiki growled, tugging his boy's arm and striding toward the door. He seethed in fury and humiliation all the way home. That Iruka seemed to take this as an amusing adventure angered him all the more.

"You have shamed me," he said somberly when they were finally behind closed doors. "Bad enough that you've given the Uchiha clan another reason to scorn the family, what will your teachers say? Why did you skip school?"

The boy finally looked cowed. "It…it was Kotetsu's idea."

_Smack!_ Iruka staggered backwards from the blow.

* * *

The heavy wooden rod tore the skin of his back, and Kajiki stifled his shout. As it was, the noise in his throat angered his father, and the next lash struck the side of his head.

_Don't cry-don't cry-don't cry_, the youth mentally chanted. He closed his eyes and tightened his jaw.

Finally the beating ended, and his father tossed the bloodied rod aside. "How could you do this to me, Kajiki?" His voice was low and angry, the frustration clear in his face. "Do you have any idea what I went through to get you that mission?" He strode back to the table where a pile of yellowing books and delicate parchments lay. Grabbing a scroll at random and waving it sharply, he shouted "How dare you come back with _this_? Have you no shame?"

The fifteen-year-old cringed at his father's rough handling of the scroll. "But I've been trying to explain- that _is_ the monks' treasure. Well, part of it, at least."

"The Mizukage didn't send you to find a pile of books! We can't sustain this village and pay for war with musty scrolls. The rumors say that the Monks' Order is hiding great stores of riches."

Kajiki shook his head. "The rumors are based on exaggerations and misunderstandings. Monks value simple living, and have no reason to hide gold. We… they believe there is no treasure greater than knowledge and enlightenment."

"_We?_" Unagi demanded harshly, seizing upon his son's stumbled words. "You think you're one of _them_ now, is it?"

"No!"

"How can you be this pathetic? I send you away from the battlefield, to a people without jutsu and swords, and they conquer you with hokey religion! What am I going to do you?"

"Please, father," the teen staggered painfully to the table. He began to flip through one of the books, "Just let me show you. The monks know about chakra too, and they refine it through meditation and mental discipline. I know it's not going to pay for the war, but these records _are _useful."

"You mean to tell me they have scrolls that teach new jutsu?" His father raised his brows, for the first time started to show interest in the plundered stash.

"No, not jutsu. Monks don't use spiritual energy in that way. But I've been studying their techniques, and it's definitely applicable." The words spilled out eagerly as he explained. "Through their training, I've been able to increase my chakra control, and can use my own jutsu more effectively. You know how I've been using a henge to disguise myself as one of their Order? It's getting easier to hold my new form for longer time spans, and I'm close to making the henge a true transformation. Theoretically, I could refine my henge to perfection, where-"

"Idiot!" his father barked, silencing him with a strong backhand. "You think ninja don't have techniques to increase their chakra control? Do you imagine the Mizukage will be impressed by these monk tricks?" He overturned the table in his wrath. "You and your 'theories'- I swear you haven't an ounce of common sense in that skull. Put a book in front of your eyes, and you're blind to everything else. I wouldn't be surprised if the monks saw right through your disguise and misled you into believing they hold no treasure."

"They are not deceitful people," the teen answered, not daring to raise his voice, "They have no interest in treasure."

"Of course not," Unagi sneered. "I suppose you didn't even bother to interrogate one. Why did you waste so much time in infiltration, when a bit of torture would have loosened their tongues?"

Kajiki dropped his gaze to the ground. "I didn't want to hurt them," he murmured uncomfortably. "They're good people, father."

Unagi said nothing. He stood motionless and stared darkly at his son. Kajiki braced himself for another strike, but surprisingly it did not come.

"Father?"

"Get out of my sight," he ordered, his voice tight. "I swear- you're no ninja, and no son of mine. You have shamed me. If I see your face another minute, I'll kill you."

Kajiki bowed carefully and withdrew at an even pace, not wanting to provoke his father by showing his fear. Not fear for his life- in spite of what was said, the teen did not believe that Unagi would kill him. But his father was a calculating man, a master at striking where it would hurt most.

"You are confined to the walls of the Umino Compound, Kajiki. I'll decide what to do with you later," his father called, just as he reached the room's threshold. "But first, I'll make sure your mission is completed properly, and that all your monk friends are properly taken care of."

* * *

It wasn't until Iruka escaped his grasp the second time, screaming in terror and clutching his bloody face, that Kajiki realized just what he'd done. The kunai, which he'd drawn in anger when the boy had first tried to run, now dropped from his nerveless fingers.

The seven-year-old stumbled blindly into the bathroom, slamming the door shut for protection.

"Bloody hell, I've turned into my father." Cursing himself under his breath, the shinobi retrieved the first aid kit from his mission pack. "Iruka," he knocked softly at the bathroom door. "Please let me in, son. We have to stop the bleeding."

A fearful sob was the only response. Feeling his own fear rising, he knocked again, more insistently. "Enough of that- I swear I won't hurt you again. I need to see the cut. Now let me in."

No answer. Kajiki breathed a sigh of self-loathing and leaned his head against the door, forcing calm into his voice. "Iruka, I know you're scared, but I need you to be brave. Grab a clean towel and press it against the wound. Hold it tightly."

The shuffling sounds let him know he was being obeyed.

"Good boy. You're pressing the towel tightly, aren't you? You need pressure to stop the bleeding."

Kajiki withdrew a set of lock picks from his vest. "Now sit down on the floor, but keep your head up; lean against the wall if you need to." He quietly worked the lock. "Eyes closed, son, and take nice deep breaths. Focus on your breathing."

The door yielded, and Kajiki noiselessly entered, kneeling directly across from the boy. The floor was slick with blood, which was to be expected as facial lacerations bled quite freely. Behind the bloody towel blocking Iruka's face, he could hear shuddering breaths and quiet whimpers.

Kajiki covered his son's hands with one of his own, securing the towel more firmly into place. Iruka jumped, but his father gently shushed him and placed his other hand on the back of the boy's head for support. "I'm so sorry, Iruka. I'm sorry."

Kajiki held the towel firm with one hand, and stroked Iruka's hair with the other. Slowly the boy relaxed, until he was leaning against his father's chest.

"I'm sorry for being bad," the boy finally murmured from behind the towel.

"No," the father choked out, blinking back tears. "I shouldn't have… Son, you didn't deserve that. Do you understand? You should have been in school, yes, but that's not a reason to hurt you."

"Then why…?"

The question was left dangling in the silence as Kajiki struggled to reply.

"Iruka, a long time ago, someone hurt me," he said finally, "And, even though it's wrong, today I hurt you. Humans are strange like that- when someone gets hurt, they usually hurt the people around them. Even innocent people. That's what I did to you. It was wrong, and I am very sorry."

Kajiki checked the wound, relieved to find that the bleeding had stopped. It stretched garishly across the boy's face, crossing the bridge of his nose, and the shinobi knew it was going to scar. How was he ever going to explain this to his wife? And, kami, the boy would be reminded of what he'd done, every day for the rest of his life. Kajiki felt sick to stomach.

As the man carefully cleaned and taped bandages onto the little face, Iruka gazed at him with somber wide eyes. "Daddy? I'm never going to do that."

"Hm?" Kajiki murmured distractedly, trying to bind the awkwardly located wound. "Do what?"

"I'm never going to hurt other people just because I feel hurt," the boy explained earnestly. "I promise."


	4. A Better Man

A/N: Thank you to the reviewers, both signed and anonymous, and those who have put this story on "alert" or "favorites." The level of interest in this story continues to surprise me, and that (along with Taryn Streambattle's encouragement) is directly responsible for my decision to update, when I was rather inclined to leave it as is. Thank you all once again.

* * *

"Please, Koeda," Kajiki raised his hands in both defense and supplication, trying to forestall a forced ejection from their home, "Dear, please forgive me."

"_Forgive you_?" The kunoichi repeated, incredulous.

"It was an accident."

"No, Kajiki! It was not an _accident_. Dropping the dishes- that's an accident. Leaving the stove on- that's an accident. _Flaying our son's face open with a kunai is not an accident!"_ She exclaimed, volume increasing with her ire. "It's sick. It's unforgivable."

"You're right," he said quietly. "You're right. I can't ask you to forgive me." He dropped to his knees. "I can't tell you how sorry I am; how much I regret what happened. I can only beg for your mercy. Please, don't keep my son away from me."

Koeda's heart wavered, and she nearly capitulated. However, she had only to remember Iruka's marred face to steel it again. "Kajiki, you already have my mercy. I did not report you, and I've coached Iruka on how to explain it away. But every time I look at my son, I have to see that horrible scar on his face, and know that you put it there. Know that _I _failed to protect him."

"Don't blame yourself. This was my fault, not yours." Kajiki said, looking up at her. "I've told you about the manner of my upbringing. I've tried to reject it, to turn from it, but it caught up to me anyhow. What happened with Iruka was entirely my failure."

"How can I trust you not to fail again?"

Kajiki hesitated. "I don't know."

"Then," Koeda replied, "I suggest you leave until you figure it out."

* * *

Young Kajiki sprinted through the temple compound, startling several boys who were carrying water up from the well. He finally burst into the meditation hall where the monks were well into their morning ritual.

"Ninja are coming!" He gasped without preamble. "Tomorrow. Maybe sooner once they realize that I'm missing."

The orange-robed men stared up at him in surprise. The Order was never one for haste, but Kajiki had no time to ease them into this news or wait for their measured response.

The disguised ninja hurried to the front of the hall where the master monk sat to guide the meditation. Bowing low and still gasping for breath, he repeated, "Kirigakure nin are on their way. They'll destroy us if we're not ready."

"Are they indeed? Where have you been, Mikal, and who told you such things?" The master gazed up at him calmly, and Kajiki was almost impressed by the elder's imperturbability.

"I know it firsthand." Reaching into his knapsack, Kajiki withdrew his hitai-ate and dropped it at the master's feet. "Forgive me; I have deceived you. I am not Mikal, but a ninja of the Mist, sent to impersonate him." The form of a thirty-year-old monk vanished in a puff of smoke, and a fifteen-year-old ninja stood in his place.

A ripple of murmurs and a few startled gasps swept through the group. Master Peng stood slowly, calm as ever. "Ah, I noticed Mikal seemed…unlike himself. You have disguised yourself among us for several months."

"Yes sir. There is a rumor that the Order has great riches, and Kirigakure's economy is suffering. I was sent to discover the secret of your treasure."

Master Peng raised his brows, considering him. "Tell me, young ninja- after all this time, did you find what you were seeking?"

"Yes sir," the teen nodded, "Though it was not what I expected to find! I learned so much under your guidance, and I would have liked to stay longer, but I had a mission to complete. I'm sorry to say that I took some of your texts with me to Kirigakure. My father destroyed them in a fit of anger."

Another monk sprang to his feet. "Why would you bring them anything of our words? You knew the barbarians in the Mist would scorn our teachings!"

Kajiki nodded. "I knew it, but after all this time I could not return from my mission empty-handed. Not if I valued my life. And I…" the boy trailed off and shook his head regretfully.

"And you hoped to have some influence back home," Master Peng finished for him. "I have been watching you closely, young one. While I may not have known exactly whom I was seeing, I know you have been diligent in your study and meditation, and your spirit is stirred. It is natural for a Monk to desire to teach others the path to enlightenment. I would expect no less from you."

The ninja's face brightened at the master's implication that he was one of them. Especially now, after his father had all but renounced him.

The others were not so convinced. "Master, you can't mean to compare this snake to a Monk!"

"He is but a youth," Master Peng reminded them. "His life's path has only begun; who can say yet where it will turn?"

"Kirigakure ninja are trained to murder from the womb- he could never be like us."

Another turned directly to Kajiki. "If you've been among us so long, then where is the real Mikal?"

The young ninja blinked and looked up at the man, thinking the answer was obvious. "Well, I had to- to get rid of him, to start this mission. But I haven't harmed anyone since."

"You see!" The young monk rounded on the master. "He admits to slaying Mikal, without so much as casting his eyes to the ground in shame. I suppose we're meant to admire his restraint in refraining from murdering any more of us."

Kajiki sighed in exasperation. "I didn't come to be admired. I came to warn you that others are coming to finish the job I was meant to do. Some of you will be taken for Torture & Interrogation, to try to force out the secret of your 'treasure.' The rest will be killed."

"But if we explain that we have no money or gold, won't they leave us in peace?" another monk suggested. "They can search the Temple themselves and see that there's nothing."

"That won't convince them. You could be hiding it anywhere, even away from the Temple," Kajiki pointed out. "It's not the ninja way to be merciful, and I'm afraid they will be harsher than they have to, on my account. It was my mistake to show too much fondness for your ways."

He unslung the bag from his shoulder and pawed through it to pull out a few scrolls. "But I do have a plan. Will you listen?"

The others looked to Master Peng, and the elder nodded. "We will hear you, young one."

"Great." He straightened and looked over the men before him. "When the ninja arrive, there will be three or four at most. Only such men as can be spared from the battlefield- none of the elite. They're expecting to meet a harmless group of unarmed monks. Don't underestimate them. Our only hope is to work together. There will be many of us who will not survive the battle, but the sacrifice of some is necessary to prevent the destruction of all."

The monks exchanged troubled and disapproving glances while Kajiki unfurled the scrolls and summoned weapons. "I've brought you the swords of the Umino Armory. I know you are unskilled with weapons, but I will teach you what I can before the strike begins. Our main strength is in superior numbers – the plan is to overwhelm them with force, not skill.

"We must fortify the Temple as best we can. Also, the very young and the very old – those who cannot fight – should split up into small groups immediately and be sent into hiding. The ninja will be too busy with the assault on the Temple, and even if we perish in the battle, there's hope that some of the elders and their wisdom will escape, and some of the young will survive to learn and carry on their teachings."

Master Peng gave him a pitying look. "What is your name, young one?"

"Umino," he replied. "Umino Kajiki."

"You take your name from the sea, and rightly so. You seem placid in nature, but danger lurks in the depths." The elder sighed. "Have you been with us so long, Umino, and yet do not understand the respect we have for all life? We will not bear these weapons."

"If you respect life then do what you must to defend it!" Kajiki insisted. "The Mist ninja are your enemies. Don't imagine that they'll show mercy. Not a one of you will be spared."

"That is the reasoning of a ninja, not a monk," the master said. "Our hands will not be upon them, though they be our enemies. We will flee and hide ourselves."

Kajiki's mouth gaped open for a moment, his expression bewildered. "That- that's not an option! Time is against you, Master Peng. Without a battle to delay them, the hunt will overtake you all. Ninja are excellent trackers. There's no place to hide except, maybe, beyond the nation's borders. The Sword of the Mist will strike you well before you get there. Don't you understand?" The boy's voice grew louder as he spoke. "If you don't fight, you will die! If you care nothing for your own lives, then think of your teachings. Your wisdom will be destroyed with you."

"You speak hastily, my boy. You cannot know this for sure." Even now, the master monk was unruffled. "There are many in the Order, and we know the countryside well."

"Better than the ninja?" Kajiki barked. "I wouldn't wager my life on that. What happens if you're wrong?"

"Then we perish. But we will not betray our beliefs."

A distressed growl escaped the ninja's throat, and he paced anxiously, pulling at his own hair.

"Come with us, little brother. We will run together." To his surprise, it was one of the younger monks who entreated him. It was a tempting offer, but one Kajiki couldn't accept.

"I didn't return for us to all die together." The boy held a single sword aloft. "If no one will join me, then I will fight alone. It's too much to hope that I'll defeat them all. I can't. But I will buy you time, maybe even injure them, and delay their pursuit. Split up into groups, like I mentioned before. Hopefully it will take so long to dispatch of me that they won't be able to catch _all_ the groups before they cross the borders."

"Can we not convince you to flee with us?" Master Peng asked. "Have some faith. We will find a way out together."

"No, master. I'm sorry, but I know the ninja too well to have your faith. If I run, then we all needlessly perish. You taught me to value life, and I choose to die with purpose- to spend my life in defense of yours."

"I cannot allow you to shed blood in my name," the master countered. "It would be a shame to my teachings."

"No. Don't say that!" Kajiki protested, unnerved by the condemnation. "I know I'm not the perfect student, but you have changed me. I'm not the same person. I cannot- I _will_ not- die as a traitor to the ninja _and_ a shame to the monks."

Kajiki kneeled before the elder. "Master Peng, you've taught me so much about life, and mercy, and purpose. This final act is my way of embodying that. Please- when I enter my final battle, I want to be wearing these robes proudly."

"If you are determined to go to battle, I rather you didn't wear them at all," Master Peng replied calmly. "My boy, don't defile the robes of the monkhood with the blood of war."

"Defile!" The young ninja's face contorted in outrage. He jerked himself back up to his feet. "Fine! Forget it! You're determined to reject your only chance for survival."

Kajiki's expression and voice leveled back into calm, having reached a decision. "If my sacrifice is so offensive to you, I'll just return to my clan."

"The Mist Ninja are cruel, and not easily deceived- they will _know_ that you've warned us." Master Peng placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "How can you go back? They'll kill you for helping us escape."

Kajiki raised his sword and sliced the master's throat.

"You're right: I can't go back if I help you escape," he said to the fallen corpse. Kajiki looked down at the blood, his master's blood, gleaming wetly on his garments. "Sorry about the robes. I'm not your best student, but in a few moments I'll be the last one left alive. I promise to pass on your wisdom as best I can."

With those final words, he readied his sword and turned to the rest of the screaming, panicked group.

* * *

"Dad, why are you sleeping out here?" Iruka asked, padding into the living room and to the sofa.

His father blinked up at him blearily and smiled. "It's comfortable here." With a grunt, he sat up and patted the cushion beside him. "Come here, little ninja. What are you doing up so late?"

"I'm not _little_," Iruka grimaced, but clambered up beside him anyway. He wound his arms around Kajiki's waist. "I missed you."

The man was quiet for a long moment. Then, he slid a hand into the boy's hair. "I missed you too, Iruka. Very much."

"Then why did you go away? You were gone for a really long time!"

"Iruka, I…" Kajiki sighed, and ran a hand over his bald scalp. Iruka thought it was funny-looking, the way dad had cut off all his hair. "What did your mother tell you?"

The boy frowned in thought. "Mom said you needed to leave because it wasn't safe for you to stay home."

"That's right."

"I'd protect you, though," Iruka insisted. "I'm learning how, in school."

Kajiki chuckled. "Son, there are some things I needed to learn for myself. While I was gone, I went back to school too, in a place called a monastery. I spent a lot of time in prayer and meditation. I couldn't come back until I was ready."

Iruka snuggled into his dad's side, his feet dangling over the edge of the sofa. "Was it…" he hesitated, "Was it because of me?"

"No, Iruka," his father said firmly. "It was because of _me._"

"But I was bad," he insisted, "and then you left. And mom gets sad when she looks at me. She cries sometimes, when she thinks I can't hear her. And when you got home today, you kept looking at my scar." He pressed his face into his father's nightshirt. "I wish I could wear a mask all the time, like Kakashi."

Kajiki gently caught the boy's chin and tilted his head up. "You don't have to hide yourself, Iruka- not with a mask, or anything else. Mom and I would never want that."

He pressed a kiss onto the raised line of flesh on Iruka's nose. "You're already a much better man than I will ever be, and I'm proud of you."


	5. Protection

**A/N: **This chapter ties in to my other story, Ready for War, though you need not read it to understand this.

Also,I don't know how many of my old followers are still reading, but it may be of interest to some that I am working on a new installment to my main series - Not Over 'Til The Paperwork Is In etc. Progress has been slow, but I have most of the story sketched out, and over 80 pages written.

* * *

Iruka shivered as he crept down the hall. The heat seemed to have seeped from his body, and a heavy lump of anxiety lodged in his chest. His eyes darted, peering in the shadows of the darkened house. He was afraid, but he didn't know _why_.

He did know that, at eleven years, he was far too old to be running to mom and dad.

But this- whatever _this_ was- it was bad. Different than anything he had ever felt before. He paused in front of their bedroom, calming his breathing, before knocking hesitantly.

To his surprise, the door opened immediately. His mother took one look at his ashen face and quickly ushered him inside. "Oh, sweetheart…you feel it too?"

The boy nodded, involuntarily clenching a fist into her shirt for comfort. It was then that he noticed his mother was mostly dressed in her shinobi uniform. His father was pulling on a flak jacket. "What's going on?"

"We're not sure. An attack of some kind," his dad responded tersely.

"Your father and I are going to investigate. You stay right here and wait for us, okay?" She extracted her shirt from Iruka's grip, lightly squeezing his hand before donning her own vest. "Don't leave this house."

He was being left behind, while his parents went to the battlefield. Again. And they had only just returned for furlough! Iruka barely got to see them anymore. It was… it was just _not fair_.

"But, mom- I'm a ninja too!" Iruka clenched his fists and swallowed the lump in his throat. "This is what I've been training for! If the village is in danger, I should be out there."

"No!" Kajiki snapped, whirling around so suddenly that he dropped his hair tie. "I forbid it. You _will_ wait here until further orders."

"We'll come back as soon as we can," Koeda added, securing her own hair with her hitai-ate. She kissed Iruka's cheek. "Be good. Stay here unless the evacuation signal is given. You remember the evacuation drills, don't you, sweetheart?"

"Yes, mom," Iruka replied reluctantly, "But-"

"No 'buts,'" Kajiki interrupted. "Your mother and I are going now. You are not to leave this house without orders." In spite of his brusque demeanor, he still leaned over to kiss Iruka's forehead. Grasping the boy's chin in his hand, the shinobi forced him to meet his eyes. "Do not disobey me."

In the distance, a monster roared.

* * *

Kajiki returned to the Umino Compound, his face still flushed with victory after the small but successful rally that evening. His ideas for reform were gaining support, and it was only a matter of time before the Kirigakure government would be forced to address the issue.

Unsurprisingly, his mother was waiting for him.

Kajiki bowed formally at the waist, bracing himself for another lecture.

"I warned you not to go," she began, predictably. "Why do you insist on drawing attention to yourself?"

"This isn't about _me_, mother; it's about our country," he replied calmly, taking his place in their familiar argument. "Kirigakure is in the dark ages: far behind the other great nations in everything but strength. Where are our cryptologists? Our medics? Our researchers? We've cripple our own nation by culling those whose talents lie somewhere other than combat."

"Kajiki..." His mother sighed.

"Convince me that I'm wrong," he interrupted, unwilling to hear another groundless rebuke. "I haven't been beaten in a debate yet."

The older woman shook her head impatiently. "You think philosophy and speeches are enough. It's not. What good are strong arguments in a weak body? You can still be silenced by the sword."

The despair in his mother's voice halted Kajiki's intended retort. He hesitated. "What are you trying to say?"

She met his gaze, holding it intently as she answered. "Your father received an assassination order today."

The young man blinked, taking a few staggering steps backwards before sinking slowly into a chair. "They…they asked father to do it?"

A shudder of fear stole down his spine, but he covered the emotion with an ironic smirk. "He must have been pleased."

"He had no choice," she replied, frowning at him severely.

"Of course he didn't."

His mother riled. This argument was even older than the one on graduation rites. "I don't know why you refuse to see it. Everything your father's done has been to protect you. To make you strong."

Kajiki nodded tersely, keeping his resentment unvoiced. He didn't want to spend his last moments fighting with his mother. Kajiki knew he was no match for Umino Unagi; when the older man decided to strike, it would be over quickly. He wondered how much time was left.

"I secured a promise from your father," she continued. "I asked for time to say goodbye. He gave me his word that he will not start his assignment until dawn."

Kajiki looked up, surprised. There were several hours yet until dawn. How would she want to spend them? His mother smiled and planted a light kiss on his forehead. "Farewell, son."

With those final words, she bowed and disappeared in a cloud of chakra. It took another moment for Kajiki to comprehend her gift. She had given him time to run.

Springing up, he grabbed his travel pack and retrieved all the money from his safebox. It was not much, considering his need to build a new life. He sorely wished he'd had the presence of mind to say something meaningful to his mother before she disappeared. She'd endangered her own life to warn him; he could not risk her further by seeking her out again.

He teleported into the kitchen to stock up on ration bars and imperishable items. Another jutsu brought him to the Umino Armory.

"Somehow, I'm not surprised that you packed food before sparing a thought to your weapons."

Kajiki spun around to face that mocking voice. "Father."

Umino Unagi was seated at a low wooden table, sharpening and oiling a set of kunai. A freshly sharpened batch of shuriken was already arrayed neatly before him.

Kajiki's stomach twisted as he bowed. "I did not intend to disturb you. I will return later."

His father snorted. "Nonsense. This armory is big enough for both of us. By all means, take what you came for."

Kajiki considered fleeing immediately. Who knew whether the man would slay him right here, promise notwithstanding? However, the dark amusement in his father's eyes convinced him that he was more likely to let him run, for the thrill of hunting him later.

Refusing to be intimidated, Kajiki turned to a wall lined with swords.

"Not those," his father grunted. "Choose one from the eastern wall."

That wall displayed the most well-constructed and expensive swords of the Umino clan- swords that Kajiki had never been deemed worthy to handle. The young man glared at his father before turning to the finer swords. If Unagi expected him to be grateful, he was sorely mistaken. Kajiki knew that this gesture had nothing to do with his own worth, and everything to do with his father's overconfidence in his ability to complete this assassination.

The moment he selected a sword, Unagi called to him. "Come here, boy. Let's see what you chose."

Reluctantly, Kajiki moved to stand beside his father, relinquishing the weapon.

The older man hefted it in his hand. "This is a good weight for you," he assessed. "Good reach, good balance. You managed to learn something after all." With that, he proceeded to sharpen the blade. Kajiki stood by uncomfortably. He had cared for his own weapons since he was a child. It was strange, watching his father do it for him.

Finally, Unagi stood, sword in hand. For a moment, Kajiki expected him to run the blade through his chest. Instead, the older man sheathed it and fastened the belt securely around his son's waist.

Next, Unagi detached the kunai pouch from his son's holster. He overturned it, emptying it of the used weapons, and then restocked it with the gleaming kunai he'd just finished sharpening.

He did the same with Kajiki's shuriken pouch.

Kajiki said nothing as he was outfitted with the weapons. It was tempting to think that this was his father's way of expressing affection. Tempting, but not reasonable. Not after everything the man put him through. Kajiki had long resigned himself to the fact that he would never have his father's approval, let alone his love.

Once the younger ninja was fully equipped, Unagi stood before him and clasped his shoulders. "You've been a difficult, willful child, Kajiki. But if, in all your life, you will listen to only one thing I say, let it be this: Flee the Land of Water. Quickly. And do not return."

"Father?" Kajiki furrowed his brow. "Your mission…"

"My mission begins at dawn, and I will find you if you remain in this country." Unagi stepped back and removed a chain from around his own neck. A large medallion dangled from it, bearing the crest of the Water Daimyo. "Take this with you. Present it to the captain of any Water Country ship, and they'll be obligated to give you free passage."

"You're helping me," he said disbelievingly, almost a question.

"Well you sure as hell can't help yourself," his father groused, yanking the chain over Kajiki's head. "Now get out of here."

But for the first time, Kajiki did not wish to leave the man's presence. He never expected his father to be willing to die for him. He never expected him to care. Kajiki realized with a pang that mother had been right all along; there was some part of Unagi that he had failed to see clearly.

"No, father. I think I'll stay," he said.

The veins bulged in the other man's neck. There was a wildness in his father's eyes- one that Kajiki would have called mindless anger, but that he now recognized to be at least equal parts fear. "Don't you dare defy me in this!" the older man growled.

"We both know what will happen to you if I escape. Who will lead the clan if you're gone?"

"Your brother, at least, is capable."

"Then what about mother? I'm lost to her regardless of what I do. Why should she lose both of us?" he persisted. "She might even be implicated in my escape. I'm staying, father. It's the only way to protect you both."

"Cut the crap!" Unagi snarled into his face. "It's the parents who protect their children! Now _leave!_"

Kajiki held his ground. After all, what could Unagi do to him now? The two men stood eye to eye, implacable.

Finally, the anger on Unagi's face faded into a frighteningly lethal calm. "Do not forget, son, you are being targeted for political purposes, and I know which shinobi sympathize with your politics. For every hour you linger, I'll report two of your friends for sedition and insurrection. And if you make me kill you, I will see that every one of them is killed as well." A cold smile stretched his lips. "So tell me, how much longer are you planning to stay?"

The young man stepped back, stunned by the callous cruelty. His father always knew where to strike. "I'll leave immediately, sir."

"Good," Unagi nodded. "One day, Kajiki, I hope you have a son just as infuriatingly willful as you are."

The young man bowed, accepting the words for the veiled benediction it was, and disappeared in a cloud of chakra smoke.

* * *

Iruka tried; he really did. But in the end he just couldn't sit safely at home, listening to the noise of battle, when his own parents were in danger right outside.

But all his training in school hadn't prepare him for _this._ Iruka felt disoriented- there was so much noise and motion. Dust and ash coated his throat. Blood trailed sluggishly down his forehead, but he couldn't remember why. The monster- the Fox- loomed high above, terrible in its might, its chakra so powerful the very air felt electrified. Still, Iruka pressed on, knowing the closer he got to the demon, the closer he'd be to his parents.

There! His heart jumped into his throat. There she was, in the distance. "Mom!" he called out, racing forward.

Suddenly, there was a bright light, and even more heat. People were screaming. Walls were crumbling. Someone pushed him, hard.

The boy opened his eyes (he didn't remember closing them) and found himself face to face with his mother.

"Iruka…are you hurt?"

A ridiculous question for her to ask, Iruka thought, when she was kneeling on the ground with blood gushing from her own mouth. He was too shaken to reply. His mother slumped forward into him, and clasped him to her chest in an unsteady embrace.

"Mom?" he gasped, struggling to support her weight. She choked on her own blood, unable to answer him. Iruka looked around desperately, and caught sight of his father only a few meters away.

"Dad!" he screamed, "Mom's-"

"I'll take care of her," Kajiki interrupted. "You hurry up and get out of here!"

"No! I can't just run off and leave you guys here!" Iruka protested. "I'll protect her!"

Kajiki realized that Koeda was fading, and there was nothing he could do about it right now. Iruka would be killed too, if he lingered. The thought terrified him. "Cut the crap!" Kajiki screamed in desperate, fear-driven rage. "It's the parent's job to protect their children!"

Iruka cowed, unused to facing his father's unbridled temper- not since…

But then he glanced back at his mother and set his face stubbornly. "I'm not leaving!"

Kajiki could not allow it, but no amount of screaming would compel the child to leave their side. Instead, he ran back to kneel beside the pair. "Your mother's fine, Iruka. She'll be fine," he said, coaxing his wife to lean back and let go of their child. She did so, backing up his lie by holding herself upright, in spite of the enormous gash on her back and the blood filling her lungs. Koeda wanted Iruka's last memory of her to be one of strength.

"Come here, son." Kajiki opened his arms as though for a hug, counting on the boy's trust. Iruka folded into him willingly.

In a swift motion, the father hoisted up his son and transferred him into another shinobi's grip. "Get him out of here," he ordered tersely.

Kajiki ignored the stricken, betrayed look on his child's face. He had done what was necessary to protect him. _You have your wish, father,_ he thought. _And now I understand you a little better. _

Kajiki had many regrets, but he was glad that, unlike Unagi, he'd been open about his love throughout his son's life. If tonight turned out to be his last, he hoped Iruka would forgive him this final betrayal.

More than that, Kajiki prayed his son would never know what it was to have to manipulate a child he loved in order to protect him.

* * *

Iruka frowned. "You're asking me to restrict Naruto to that island?"

"It's for his own safety, as much as anyone else's," Tsunade said. "You may be the only one he'll listen to."

"I understand that, Lady Tsunade. But you know how incredibly tenacious Naruto is." Iruka sighed. "I don't know if there's anything I could say to stop him. He's going to want to help, once he learns the truth of what's happening."

The Hokage raised her eyebrows. "Then lie."


	6. Sticks & Stones

This chapter was partially inspired by Shane Koyczan's "To This Day Project." I gently recommend watching it. You can find it on YouTube if you're interested. Have tissues.

* * *

"Ha- got you!" a boy taunted as he tagged the little Akimichi. "You're too slow, Choshi!"

Just beyond the fence, Kajiki slowed his approach to observe the game. Dangling and dashing among playground equipment, the schoolboys were engaged in a round of ninja tag.

"Aw, guys, it's not his fault." Iruka stood among them, face streaked with dirt and grass stains on his pants. With a wide grin, he poked Choshi's belly and added, "He can't run because he's such a fatso!"

This sent the other boys into peals of laughter.

"You know what he _can_ do fast?" another crowed, a malicious edge in his tone. "Eat!"

"I'm glad he's not on our team."

"He's way too fat to be a good ninja."

This was quite enough. At Kajiki's entrance, the gaggle of boys fell silent. Fortuitously, he had not stopped to change out of full shinobi regalia before heading out to collect his son.

Iruka… he would deal with him in a moment. First, Kajiki paused before the young Akimichi, crouching on one knee so that they were at eye level.

"Did you ever hear such foolish talk?" The shinobi asked Choshi, loud enough for the others to hear. "I would take an Akimichi on my team any time. Just last month, your uncle saved my life."

"He did?"

"Oh yes," Kajiki nodded. "I was outnumbered, until Chouza used his Human Boulder Jutsu. Very fast, very deadly. It was impressive." He clasped Choshi's shoulder. "Don't mind the ignorant comments: Your clan is powerful, and rather clever in using their girth to great advantage in battle. In time, you can be as great a ninja as the rest of them."

The young boy flushed with pleasure as he nodded.

Kajiki stood and turned his attention to his son. Iruka was eyeing his schoolmate with newfound appreciation, but no apology was forthcoming. The man sighed. "Come along, Iruka. It's time for dinner."

The boy nodded and said farewell to his comrades.

When they were out of sight, Kajiki grabbed an ear and twisted.

"Ow!" Iruka exclaimed, clasping his ear. "What was that for?"

"You will never call Choshi a fatso again. I _should_ have boxed your ears in front of your friends, for the way you incited them into mocking the poor boy."

"But dad, we were just kidding around," he protested.

"It's not amusing to hurt others." Kajiki gave him a hard look. "I did not raise you to be a bully."

Iruka bit his lip, rubbing the scar on his nose in thought. The shinobi winced at the unintentional reminder that perhaps he _had_ instilled a measure of cruelty to the boy.

"We were only talking. It's not like...like we _hit_ him," Iruka replied sullenly. "You're acting like we beat him up."

Quietly, Kajiki asked, "You think what you boys were doing hurts less?"

The child remained silent. Of course he thought so. Iruka was not given to intentional cruelty; he simply did not understand the power of his words.

"Iruka, do you remember when you broke your arm?"

The child blinked up at him, puzzled by the change of subject. "Uh… sure. Last summer, when I fell from the tree."

Kajiki reached out and gently squeezed the boy's forearm, in the area of the old fracture. "Does it hurt now?"

"No!" he scoffed. "It healed ages ago."

His father nodded. "Broken bones heal after a short time. But scorn & ridicule can continue hurting someone for years. Sometimes for the rest of their life. Words are very powerful, Iruka."

"_Words_?" He scrunched his nose skeptically. "You really think so, dad?"

"Oh, yes." Kajiki sighed and ran a hand through his hair. "I've never really explained this to you, but that's the reason I had to leave the country where I grew up. The Mizukage didn't like my words. He wanted to silence me."

Iruka's eyes widened. "Did you call him a fatso too?"

This evoked a bark of startled laughter. "Certainly not! No, there are many other uses for words besides insulting. When I was younger, I talked about ways to protect lives and better the village. Many people listened to me. But the Mizukage didn't want things to change. He forced me to leave so that I couldn't speak to the villagers anymore. The Mizukage was the strongest ninja in the Land of Water, but even _he _understood how powerful words can be.

"So be mindful of your tongue, Iruka. You can use it to do a lot of evil, or a lot of good."

"How do I use it for good then?" As usual, Iruka was quick to grasp for the positive.

Kajiki smiled fondly, and ruffled the boy's hair. "Well, to start, you can apologize to Choshi."

* * *

Umino Kajiki was a rookie chunin when he first heard of Konoha's White Fang. The Kirigakure veterans told frightening tales about his exploits and abilities. Rumor had it that no man was able to stand against him. He was invincible, indestructible.

He first met the White Fang five years ago, while out shopping with his fledgling family here in Konoha. Kajiki would always remember that awkward, yet unexpectedly pleasant meeting. For such a legendary ninja, Sakumo was uncommonly humble.

Good-natured and kind, yet fierce and capable of deadly force- to Kajiki the White Fang embodied all that was good about Konoha. Over the next few years his ensuing encounters, though few and brief, only reinforced this respect.

Five years after that first meeting, the famous White Fang forfeited a mission. Kajiki was intrigued by the rumors that Sakumo had abandoned the assignment in order to save his teammates.

The mission took precedence over the life of any individual. Always. From Konoha to Kirigakure, this fact was imprinted into every shinobi mind. Still, Kajiki could not find the revulsion to Sakumo's actions that came so easily to those around him.

Yes, the mission had been important. Yes, Sakumo made a mistake. Everyone does. But insofar as flaws went, excessive compassion seemed reasonably forgivable. For _this_ to be Sakumo's weakness… well, in some way it made him greater- if not as a ninja, then as a person, which to Kajiki was almost as important.

When a Konohan outpost ultimately fell to the enemy, the blame was laid solely at Sakumo's feet. The White Fang was disgraced. He had betrayed the village. He had dishonored his family.

Kajiki felt uncomfortable when he heard remarks like this. No one could know for sure whether Sakumo would have prevented the loss of the outpost by continuing his mission. And even if he had, it might have fallen later, in some other way, and in a more critical battle. When it came to war, who really knew?

Only one thing _was _certain- had Sakumo acted otherwise, his teammates would have died.

Kajiki would always remember how angry he felt when, in an appalling display of ingratitude, Sakumo was publically denounced by the very teammates he had rescued.

Suddenly, the man's lifetime of extraordinary service counted for nothing. His easy manner, his quiet humility, his loyalty- all ignored. The White Fang did not deserve this. Not from his teammates, and certainly not from the village to which he had committed his life.

From time to time, Kajiki complained about this character assassination, but only at home. In public, he kept his comments to himself. There was no use in putting forth his opinion. He, with his too-formal-manners and suspect loyalties, was already too easy of a target for ridicule.

As months went by, Sakumo became a recluse. His mission performance was faltering. The talk, while less frequent, was no less malicious. Eight-year-old Hatake Kakashi took to wearing a mask in public.

Thus, Kajiki was surprised when he entered the Mission Room and caught sight of Sakumo. It was his first time seeing the man since the gossip had started.

Trying not to stare, the young shinobi took a spot in line, three places behind the White Fang, and waited to hand in his mission report. The tension in the room was palpable. Several glares were aimed at the silver-haired ninja.

Sakumo finally reached the front of the line. The desk worker sniffed disdainfully. "You're late. We expected you back last week."

"I ran into some trouble," the Hatake elder responded, his voice listless and his eyes downcast. "It's in the report."

The chunin rolled his eyes and snatched the document from Sakumo's fingers. "Why do we even bother sending you out anymore? You used to complete assignments like this in half the time."

"What else can you expect from a man who abandons his missions?" the jounin directly behind Sakumo sneered. "Let's just be glad he completed it all."

"_Glad_? If he had died in battle, he could have at least recovered his honor," a third shinobi laughed from the other side of the desk. "Now he's got nothing to show but another mediocre mission performance."

Kajiki frowned at the cruel barbs they tossed at the mission-weary man. Sakumo did not react or speak a word in his own defense. The utter resignation on his face tugged at the younger shinobi's conscience. He opened his mouth to retaliate, to offer a word of support, to _say _something.

Then, he hesitated. What would his speaking up do, really, besides make himself a target?

Besides, Kajiki reasoned uneasily, the sympathy of one foreign-born shinobi wouldn't make a difference to Sakumo.

He watched as the White Fang left the Mission Room. He saw a kunoichi spit at the man's feet.

Still, Kajiki turned his face away and kept silent.

Umino Kajiki would always, always remember the numbness that swept through him when he heard the news the next morning: The invincible, indestructible, Hatake Sakumo committed ritual suicide.

A tanto blade had killed him, but his own comrades had destroyed him, with no weapons but their words.

* * *

It all made sense now. The scowls. The sneers. The hateful words. They called him 'monster' and 'demon,' though he hadn't even met them before, hadn't done anything to merit their scorn.

They hated him, just for being alive.

Naruto staggered back against the tree trunk. Gasping for air, trying not to make a sound, to hide from the two shinobi who hunted him.

He understood now. Why nobody ever accepted him. Why nobody would ever love him. That he would be lonely, forever.

The tears stung in Naruto's eyes, but he refused to let them fall. Something inside cried out in protest. Mizuki-sensei was wrong. He _had_ to be wrong.

Old man Hokage was nice to him, wasn't he? Iruka-sensei liked him, didn't he?

Didn't he?

_"Naruto, don't be a fool!"_

_"You chose now for your stupid tricks? You moron!"_

_"YOU FAIL!"_

In a clearing, Naruto heard a terrible crashing noise. His teachers were out there now, arguing.

"So noble!" Mizuki was sneering. "Saving your parents' murderer…and for what? What happens if we let him live?"

Naruto shuddered and waited for Iruka's response with bated breath. Waited for his sensei to defend him. To say he's _not _a murderer. To say his life was worth something.

Iruka's breath came in heavy gasps as he responded, "Then maybe the scroll is safe from a complete scumbag."

Naruto felt disappointment steal through him. That was it then. All that really mattered to Iruka-sensei was protecting this…this _stupid_ scroll.

From what Mizuki-sensei was saying, it contained the key to great power- power that Naruto should crave because of his demon identity. Mizuki was laughing at Iruka. "You were right to fear him…to _despise_ him."

Naruto could not help but gasp shallowly, bitter and pained. _So it's true. Iruka-sensei really does hate me. He thinks I'm a monster. _

Iruka braced himself against the tree trunk, holding his wounded body a little straighter, "Maybe I do hate the fox," he told Mizuki, "But not Naruto. Not the boy. For him, I have nothing but respect."

Iruka continued speaking: defending Naruto, praising him, accepting him as a person and as citizen of the Village Hidden in Leaves. The injured sensei spoke with the quiet intensity of a man delivering his last words. He didn't know if he would survive this night.

He didn't know Naruto was nearby, soaking in every word with tears flooding down his face.

And certainly, Iruka didn't know that, in just a few sentences, he had irrevocably changed one boy's life forever.


End file.
